Complainer Meets Doer
by Flailingkittylover
Summary: Hitch worked hard to be rewarded with a laid-back life in the Military Police, not be roomed with some mute, broken bird. Ch.2: Hitch and Annie watch a meteor shower out their window. Annie remembers what else looked like such a sight.
1. Fashion

**More Hitch and Annie content please ;~;**

* * *

Annie stands by a set of picnic tables, the man-made river connecting Stohess to the outer parts of the city seen at the farther end of the park's walkway. The clamor from street vendors and passersby is a constant annoyance and her irritation is worsened by the loudmouth next to her who gives commentary on their surroundings.

"Okay, brunette to the left." Jean smirks. "I bet she has ten-times more money than the chick to the right."

"How can you possibly tell that?" Marco skeptically challenges.

"The amount of jewelry she is wearing. I swear, if she takes off all of her bracelets and necklaces and ties them up, you'll have the world's most expensive jump rope."

"I don't…" Marco stops to glance over at the woman. "...I will admit, she does have an awful lot of necklaces on but that doesn't mean—"

"Now look at _that _one!" Jean draws Annie and Marco's attention to a well-dressed yet larger debutante. "All the fans in the world aren't going to cover _that _woman."

Marco sighs and puts his hand to the side of his face, as if to save himself from embarrassment as people walk by. "Jean, this isn't how MPs conduct themselves in public. _Especially _toward civilians. You know that already."

"I don't care." Jean dismisses with a snort. He tosses an apple from their lunch up repeatedly, emphasizing how he is in a state of leisure. "It's not like the higher-ups give a shit what we do so long as we don't get in their way. And the same goes for us to them. It's everything I've ever wanted."

"This only gives us a chance to prove ourselves then!" Marco leans forward from enthusiasm, attempting to motivate his friend. "We'll take on challenges the civilians are facing and be helpful when others aren't!"

"The only thing everyone here needs help from is obesity and male-pattern baldness, because _wow, _it's like a plague with these people. Not much I can do about this epidemic except sit back and laugh."

Marco's index finger and thumb wipe over his face and glides down his chin. Desperation up-rises Marco's eyebrows and crinkles the sides of his eyes as he turns toward Annie.

"Annie, help me out here." He implores. "We're going to get a complaint filed against us three again if Jean keeps this up. We're one strike away from punishment!"

"_Holy hell, _I just found the _motherload_ of ugliness." Jean pipes up and leaps out of his seat. "Where's a sketch artist when you need him?! I need to document this!"

Civilians awkwardly turn in their direction and Marco urges her with a sharp whisper, "_Annie!" _

Annie stands still, a cold sweat collecting at the back of her neck. As Marco gives her a pleading look, a red, jagged line slowly draws from his forehead down to his chin. The line becomes wider, sinks in deeper and scales down his body until the damage tracing the shape of teeth reaches his hip. His untouched eye becomes drained of color but not before ash lifts from the right side of his face, erasing a chunk of him which made him whole.

Annie's throat closes and heart thumps quick against her ribs. What's left of Marcos' face becomes teary, saddened as he sighs and looks down. "Why don't you ever help me, Annie?"

The back of Annie's head is then shoved forward harshly. Her jaw sets and she quickly throws her hand back but the offender touching her crown retreats before Annie can capture them.

"_Cute." _A high-pitched voice compliments. Annie twists around. Hitch has an arrogant smile and the tip of her finger taps against her chin. "Look at that, something which actually suits you. Your skin and hair are so horribly dried out and bland but this flatters your face _wonderfully_. It's a miracle!"

Hitch's hand dives into her pocket, probably to break out the portable mirror she takes out almost every five minutes. Annie shoots her lazy roommate a withering look and rips off the hat.

"We're supposed to be on patrol." Annie scolds her fashion-obsessed friend. "Not wasting our time shopping."

"As if you weren't doing the same thing by staring off into space." Hitch tilts her hip and crosses her arms in reciprocated judgement. "If you're so concerned about me wandering off, you should pay more attention."

Annie harrumphs through scarcely bared teeth. She tosses the woven sun hat like a frisbee—Hitch yelping and scrambling to catch the flying fabric disk afterward—and shifts her vision to the front of her.

The table where Jean and Marco were sitting is empty. There's not even a trace of the apple Jean had tossed. People still look at her but it's because she is standing in the middle of the walkway, not because of Jean's antics.

"What were you staring at anyway?"

Annie knows Hitch is fishing and immediately deflects with, "Nothing. Just thinking."

"Humph. And here I was hoping you'd say a man or, hell, at _least_ another woman. You need to stop acting like those chaste nuns from the wacka-loon church and more your age. You'll enjoy life more that way."

Annie turns around and adjusts the gun strap lassoing her shoulder, ignoring Hitch's snarky remark.

"Hm, how can I glamour you up…" Amber eyes much too interested in things Annie doesn't care about shimmer with thought. "Your sense of style is about as enticing as molding toast. Hats look cute on you but some might make you look like a walking mushroom cap. Hmm...decisions, decisions." Hitch's face lights up. "I know!"

Annie flinches when her excited roommate grabs her hand and tugs her forward. "Follow me!"

Annie's first instinct is to yank her arm back, then she realizes Hitch is guiding her to the district they actually need to be patrolling. She isn't in the mood to hear another lecture from Marlowe and tuning out Hitch when she babbles on and _on _has become easier, so Annie allows herself to be led away.

After passing through bustling cobblestone streets, the taller girl guides Annie to a large boutique sitting in the middle of the city square. A servant clad in a tuxedo stands outside in the heat, welcoming with a smile all of their clients who are adorned in silk suits or have necks laden with jewels. Annie narrows her eyes at the gowns displayed in the window, partly from how gaudy some ruffled dresses look and the other on how some sleek dresses don't appear to be _too _tasteless.

"You point out what you like in here and I'll tell you _why _your choice was a dumb idea." Hitch sells her pitch with a silvery voice. "That way, you'll actually get a sense of fashion!"

Annie blinks twice. "You walked in here with a gun on your back." She states rather than questions.

The brunette expands her fingers and moves them back and forth like a flirtatious hello. "Yup and got a five-finger discount too. Perks of being in the MP."

Annie keeps a straight face as her focus locks on to the shop. She then walks forward and upon her approach, the greeter at the front looks to Annie, shifts to Hitch—a sing-song "Yoo-hoo~" ringing out from her flirtatious patrol partner—and he recoils a step back.

"C-Can I help you, Miss?" The older man asks her. His formal composure has been disrupted and his goateed smile is wavering.

"Open your hand." Annie commands flatly.

The man hesitates. A lingering stare with hooded eyes is all Annie keeps up to emphasize how she won't ask again. His Adam's Apple bobs from his swallow, and slowly, a gloved hand with quivering digits reaches out to her. Annie's hand rises from her pocket and sets down a wad of money. "For the hat."

Dumbfounded, the servant fixates on the cash in the middle of his palm. "Oh...erm, thank you."

Annie tosses her head in a motion to not worry about it.

"Goody two shoes." Hitch pouts as Annie returns at her roommate's side. "I swear when I patrol with you it's like I'm walking around with my grandmother. _No. _Marlowe earned the grandma title. You're the little midget sister who likes to boss everyone around."

Annie's slender shoulders lift from her shrug. "How unfortunate for you."

"If I'd taken jewelry, I bet you'd be beating a different drum..." Hitch mutters.

"You're right. Then I'd have to arrest you."

"Have fun arresting the entire Military Police then."

"I don't have that much energy."

"Oh, for _fucks_—even _arguing _with you gets boring quick." Hitch's hands rise in a I-give-up gesture just as an annoyed bellow of _Ugh! _rings out of her. Her rattled patrol mate twirls around and Annie remains unphased. "Let's just head back already. I'm tired of this."

Hitch marches ahead of Annie while she calmly follows behind her. Her mind wanders to the figments of Marco and Jean she saw earlier.

The freckled boy always emphasized his want to help others and possessed a firm compliance of keeping law and order, even fairness. She can't help but feel the need to keep up his legacy while she maintains this image—be a competent MP at best while she's here—especially after what she's done to him.

* * *

Marlowe waits at the bottom of the living quarter's steps, his focus aimed at his pocket watch. When the two girls follow the creaky, wooden walkway to him, his eyes dart up.

"You're two minutes late." He admonishes them. "Curfew begins at 1900 hours, not 1902 hours."

"Ooo, I'm _sooo _sorry." Hitch falsely apologizes. "I hope the drunk-off-their ass commanders don't burp in my face for punishment."

"Stop with your childish nonsense. We're late for dinner." The boy scout which is their fellow comrade twists on his heel until his back is aimed at them. "Follow me."

"I'm not such a damsel where I need a guide." Hitch huffs with her hands on her hips. Marlowe does not react, only walks forward toward the mess hall. "_God _this freaking guy. I came here to relax not be bossed around by some prick with a stick up his rear."

"You'll learn how to tune things out." Annie says as she walks ahead of Hitch.

"I bet you have _loads _of experience with that. No wonder you stare into space all the time."

"Keep the hat as an apology then."

Hitch rolls her eyes and holds the edge of the hat like it's a soiled piece of laundry. "I don't want your try-hard allowance money. I'll return this stupid thing tomorrow." She then spins the inside of the hat around her finger. "Besides today wasn't a _complete_ waste of time."

Annie looks over her shoulder. "You actually turning a new leaf?"

"_Hell _no. I worked too hard to change my way of life now." Hitch keeps twirling the hat as a cunning sneer wrinkles the perimeter of her rosy lips. "I found out hats aren't really your thing. You're more of a tiara or a hair-clip type of girl."

Annie shoots the girl a doubtful look. "You couldn't possibly know that."

"Naturally, you wouldn't get it. You're the one who's fashion-retarded, not me." Hitch sashays in front of Annie with a bit more of a spring in her step. "Just trust me."

Annie squints at Hitch quizzically, unsure of what to think.


	2. Outside

"Hey." A voice rings into Annie's exposed ear. "_Hey." _The small girl's body shakes forward and back from her shoulder being pushed._ "_Before you inhale your pillow from your snoring, check this out."

"Mnh." Annie protests from the back of her throat. Her eyelids tremble open and finds Hitch standing above her. "I'm not the person to go crying to when you have a scary nightmare." Annie yawns and moves to aim herself at the wall again. "Go back to bed."

"It's 10 p.m. you grandmother." Hitch mock-scolds with her hands on her hips. "I'm nowhere near as tired as you either. Now get your tiny ass up and _look _at this."

"Leave me alone..." Annie mutters tiredly.

The brunette hums a pensive tune. "Tell you what. You get up now and look at this with me, and I won't bug you for the entire day tomorrow."

"Too good of an offer to be true." Annie combats with closed eyes. "Try again."

"No, no I'm serious! If you look at this with me, I won't bring up any boys, parties, _nothing._ I'll be a boring wallflower like you."

"I'm not interested in being sold a fantasy." The tired soldier rolls to her side, directing her front to the wall.

"C'mon! Let's shake on it then."

Annie turns her head over her shoulder and finds Hitch's extended hand. "How do I know you don't have your fingers crossed?"

Hitch lifts up her hand and wiggles the lithe digits. "It's right here so there's no need to worry!"

"I didn't mean literally." Annie states in a monotone fashion. "There's still no guarantee you'll follow through on our agreement either."

"Annie, you're killing me_. _It'll only be _two minutes_! Just shake my damn hand before my arm gets tired and then on my family's grave, on my penny allowance, on whatever the hell else I care about and can swear on, I will zip it tomorrow."

Annie zeroes in on Hitch with unimpressed, half-hooded eyes. She sighs in time with her eyelids closing.

"Fine." She relents. "If it will get you to be quiet for a day."

The smaller MP reaches out for her roommate's hand and upon grasping it, Hitch yanks Annie out of her bed and sneers, giving one swift resolute shake for their agreement.

"_That _is what I am talking about." Hitch points to the window of their room where white lights soar across the sky. "You were probably in la-la land again and didn't hear but the papers said there's a meteor shower tonight. It's been boring to stare at it alone so I thought you'd like to watch it too."

Annie squints and blinks at the glass to clear her foggy eyes. Never more than one or two swift trails of light repeatedly fly through a sea of charcoal-black sky. Hitch seems to follow through on their deal early as she's quiet the entire time they watch fragments of light zip over the walls. What is similar to a firework grand-finale arises as a horde of quick, white flashes rush across the sky, as if each one was chasing after the other. The sight truly is mesmerizing…and familiar and Annie scarcely wonders if any of them are close enough to reach the ground, to reach her hometown.

"Everyone says this is supposed to be a _romantic_ event." Hitch says in a tone both cheery and teasing, like it's funny to her because it sounds so ridiculous. "I wonder if the next time this comes along, I can flirt my way into getting one of the guys to take me to dinner. This is still boring but it would be nice to watch this outside."

A sting of recollection flinches Annie's neck to the side.

Outside…

She _has _seen this before.

* * *

Annie's one-story tall Titan does not register the chill of the night rather its movements rustles the tall trees and ripples the water of the river around them. A cavity of open space is found within the forest she and her partner walk through until their leader comes to an abrupt halt.

"Here." The overpowering boom of Zeke's Titan commands. "This is where we shall begin. Pieck has been so kind as to organize boulders for me before running off to help Reiner and Bertolt."

Pitch-black night consumes the forest they creep in but within their Titans, seeing in the dark is no issue. Marcel crawls forward on four limbs then looks up with the monster-sized version of his eyes to Annie who stands next to the furred Beast Titan.

Off in the not-so-far distance resides a brightly-lit city nestled in the face of a large mountain. Cannons, tanks, and high gates block the one entry way into the material-rich city and it has proven to be a great defense for them. Now is a different story, especially as this region's leaders chose to rescind a peace treaty with Marley and joined the enemy's side.

"Absolute simpletons." Zeke chides the town. "To think basing yourself into a mountain's face would save you from anything. You've only trapped yourselves."

Marcel and Annie are unsure how they will climb without having repetitive cannon fire impair their vision or chip away their armor but because they cannot speak, the two remain silent.

"Ah, yes." The Beast Titan's razor-toothed smile shines through the ink of night. "You two haven't seen my idea in action yet and you're still green in Titan combat yourselves. Allow me to oblige you." Black-nailed fingers as long and strong as tree trunks grab a boulder resting nearby and lifts it up, crushes hard until the rock splits and crumbles into bits. "Back-up, Leonhardt. No need for you to get caught in the crossfire."

Green pine trees surrounding the trio shake and rustle with each step she presses into the dirt behind her and Marcel follows suit.

Annie's heart is a fierce jackhammer against her ribs, pounding so fiercely, her fingers twitch from her quick pulse. Zeke takes a pitcher's form, angling his hips and straightening his back to aim. A forward slam from his foot creates a monster-made earthquake and with a strong throw, a hailstorm of rock blasts forward through the sky as quick and aimless as porcupine needles. All Annie hears is a faint whistle as rock bits fly—stares motionlessly at how blurs of grey soar so quickly for a few seconds. The jerk of her body shakes the meat chords attached to her when a line of explosions rips through the middle of the mountain town, as if lines of dynamite has been set off.

Frozen shock keeps Annie quiet. Eruptions of concrete and flecks of what Annie assumes are fiery debris and bodies erupt into the sky after every swing of Zeke's arm. Another throw into the south side and mushroom-plumes of fire spew up through crumbling buildings. Stomps from Zeke rattle Annie's bones and there's an insect-crawling sensation inching across her skin; even while miles away—encased in ribbons of muscles and walls of steaming flesh—Annie can hear eardrum-splitting screams and the roar of fire.

Zeke's arms fly up and he holds them over his head like a bodybuilder flexing. "Game, set!" He cheers exuberantly.

The screams don't stop and Annie uses her front teeth to crunch her lower lip, pressing hard enough until a trickling of copper and iron spreads across her tongue. This is what she must do, there's no quitting and no disputing. She must become numb to this.

"We gave them an option to come back into the fold and they refused. Such a poor decision lost you many civilians and resources, generals. The only positive from this is I got to practice my pitching after so long."

As if sensing the discomfort from young children, the gorilla-like back of Zeke's Titan turns. Twin torches of yellow bore into Annie's and from the middle of his lips, predatory teeth rise his mouth, sliding up high enough to reach his ears; Zeke smiles to comfort others when he is human but Annie is unsure if he is attempting to ease them or scare them.

"Remember to have fun in all you do." Zeke's Beast Titan booms as he wipes his giant hands. "This is your life now and we're all on shortened time. Best to make every moment count."

All the two of them can do is nod and Marcel and Annie do so.

"Come." Zeke's ill-balanced body sways side to side as he moves forward. "This was only a weak stronghold. I'll need your help with the other defectors close by. Now, they will have no supplies."

Marcel immediately crawls forward with Annie following up. She cancels out the rabid dogs of guilt gnawing at her innards and forces all senses of her to be composed, impossible of showing feeling.

If she is to survive, her face must be a void and her emotions blank. She won't survive if she does otherwise.

* * *

The meteor shower or the stars aren't particularly interesting to Hitch but they make for a good conversation starter for her and the reclusive creature which is her roommate. They're pretty—or shiny, whatever they look kind of neat. Hitch sneers in pride of how Annie hasn't rushed back to her bed yet, stays at her side to endure this nature event which is quickly becoming mundane. She slants her head to peer at Annie, waiting for a thank you or any form of response.

Only a reaction Hitch didn't expect rests on Annie's face. Her expression is absent, the usual ice in her blue eyes misty with deep thought and she's _pale—_paler than usual.

Hitch's brows bunch together. "What's with the face, Annie?"

"I'm not making a face." She blandly disputes, her focus still fixed on the glass.

"Bullshit you aren't. You have two looks— a pissed off scowl and a gloomy frown—but right now you look like a carriage just ran over your precious cat."

Annie keeps staring through the window, at the phenomenon she woke the small girl up to enjoy with her.

"They're just nice is all." Annie's voice sounds as tiny and frail as her body is and unexpected needles of sympathy pricks Hitch's chest. "The meteor shower, that is."

A gape forms between Hitch's lips but Annie has already shown her roommate the strength of her back and stalks away to bed.

"Hey." Hitch starts. "_Hey, _these stupid stars and meteors are supposed to make you _happy, _you know! Not more depressed! That was the point of this! Come on, Annie!"

Annie has already snuggled into the sheets of her mattress, her front aimed toward the wall once again. An exasperated groan spills from Hitch's tight jaw.

"Damn it, and I thought I had caught on to something." Hitch sighs loudly out of frustration and whispers to herself. "Sheesh, she doesn't cough up anything. No wonder she's so sad all the time."


End file.
